author's notes: This may make more sense if you've watched the Three –Way Random Debate, Cell Phones vs. BBQ vs. Ladies. Uh, and this is my first posted attempt at iCarly!fic. :0
Safe and Sound
"Hey," said the guy in the blue suit. "I'm the elevator repair man. Is your dad home?"
Freddie looked back at Sam. She took a slow, deliberate bite of ham sandwich. Not surprisingly, it was up to him to be the responsible adult.
"Uh, Spencer just stepped out for a minute," Freddie said. He politely opened the door. "Come in, please."
The elevator repair man picked up his toolbox and came inside.
"Thanks, kiddo," he said. "Well, I might as well start on that elevator. It's just the usual."
"'zzat?" Sam said, interestedly, through her mouthful of ham.
The repair man shrugged. He pushed his sleeves up past his elbow. "Oh, you know, it gets stuck here and there."
He jimmied the elevator open, and began to poke at the paneling. Freddie went back to making himself what may or may not turn out to be a mango-kiwi-with-lime smoothie. Sam finished her first sandwich and started on a second, this time with turkey meat.
"Hey, dorkface, aren't you supposed to be doing a Random Debate today?" Sam said, suddenly.
Freddie considered ignoring her and decided to be the better person. "Yeah, in like, ten minutes. I'm supposed to talk about ladies." He stopped and waited for Sam to stop laughing and clean up the bits of sandwich she'd spat out onto the table. "You know, I wish you'd start doing them again instead of that weird guy you found to take your place."
Sam snorted. "Puh-leeze," she said. "Practically no one ever even notices I'm gone."
"I notice," Freddie pointed out.
"Exactly," Sam said, smiling kindly at him, like he was a moron to be pitied and just hadn't noticed yet. He had, by the way. Noticed how she treated him, not that he was a moron.
The elevator dinged. "Aww, chiz," said the repair man.
"Did it break?" Sam asked, now engrossed in reading a cooking magazine Spencer had left out on the kitchen counter.
"No, it's fine," said the guy. It wasn't very convincing. He came out and wiped his hands on his coveralls. "Hey, wait, aren't you the kids from that iCarly show?"
"Yeah," they chimed together, in unison.
Freddie gave her a dirty look.
"You owe me a soda," Sam informed him, not even bothering to look up from her magazine.
"Great show, great show," the repair guy said, before catching himself in the act of seeming totally creepy. "I mean, you know, my kids watch it. Great show."
The elevator dinged again. The elevator repair man ducked back inside, pushed some more buttons, and started to use what sounded like a powerdrill, and maybe a hammer.
"Um, hey, kids?" the repair man called over the noise. "Listen, would you do me a favour?"
"Yeah?" Freddie called back.
"I need somebody to hold this piece down over here while I screw it back in over here," the guy said. The powerdrill stopped. "Uh, and fast."
Freddie got out of his chair, reluctantly leaving his smoothie behind. Sam didn't move from her spot. He held down a metal panel while the repair man unscrewed the screws from one side and put another one in. It all seemed a little bit pointless.
"Whoops!" said the repair guy, dropping a screw. "Okay, I could really use another pair of hands."
"Sam!" Freddie bellowed. "Get over here and help."
Sam strolled nonchalantly into the elevator, holding his own smoothie. "Tastes awful," she said, slurping at it.
"Eww, Sam!" Freddie complained. "Now I have to drink out of that..."
"What?" Sam said, incredulously. "I don't have germs."
She glared at him. He glared right back. The elevator repair man backed out of the elevator and into the kitchen.
Ding. The doors closed.
They were locked in.
"Sorry, kiddos, I'll let you out once the Debate's over," said the repair man, speaking through the metal crack. "I kind of wanna talk about ladies. Also, just so you know, I don't have any kids."
They could hear his awkward, evil laughter echoing through the apartment as he climbed the stairs to the studio.
Freddie exploded. "What just happened?!"
Sam stared at the closed doors, then at him. She put her smoothie (his, not hers, he hadn't given it up just yet) to the side. She pushed all the buttons, including the one that supposedly called 911, and not a single one worked. Then she sat down on the floor, in the corner.
It was very, very quiet.
-
Elsewhere, with cameras rolling:
"No, really. Where is Freddie?" Spencer asked.
"He's safe, okay?" said the elevator repair man.
It was totally unconvincing. Spencer shrugged. "Okay."
-
Finally, Freddie couldn't take it anymore, and he jumped to his feet and threw his fist in the air, air-punching the ceiling.
"Whoa, there," Sam said, thoroughly absorbed in picking at a hangnail.
"That man was lying," Freddie snapped, pacing angrily to and fro. "I bet you he didn't even know who Spencer was. He thought he was working for his dad."
He froze. "Maybe he thought Spencer was Carly's dad."
"Cuz Spencer obviously had a kid when he was, like, 13," Sam said dryly. Freddie looked horrified. "Relax. Sit down. You're making the floor shake. Momma's digestion doesn't like shaking after eating."
"I don't like tight spaces," Freddie said sullenly, but he sat down, at least once Sam started tugging on his ankle. She looked suspiciously interested. He braked, shifted into reverse, and backpedaled as hard as he could. "I mean, I have no problem with tight spaces at all that you could possibly manipulate to your advantage. It's just that, given an option, I'd rather be stuck in a bigger one."
"Just stop talking now," Sam sighed, closing her eyes and laying flat on her back, apparently having lost interest.
Freddie frowned. "What's with the lack of rage? I thought you'd've ripped off the doors by now, or something."
Sam's eyes flew open. "Are you kidding me?!" she growled. "When I get my hands on that dumb guy in that dumb suit, he's dead meat. Nobody locks me in a small space and gets away with it. Nobody," she stressed, glowering.
"I guess he was a desperate fan," Freddie mused. He grimaced. "He'd be a really creepy debater, though. I can't see him talking about any sort of ladies."
He looked over at Sam, who was chewing on the straw. "That's still not yours, by the way."
"It is now," she said, and grinned. "I have germs, remember?"
"You just said you didn't!" Freddie protested.
"Think your mom would agree?"
"Leave my mom out of this, Puckett," Freddie said warningly.
Sam shrugged. "Fine." She sipped the smoothie. "This really does taste kind of weird, though. Even for me."
Freddie raised his eyebrows, exasperated. "You gonna let me try, or what?"
"Hah!" She stuck out her smoothie-coated tongue at him.
Freddie suddenly had a horrible, terrible, absolutely awful idea. He was pretty sure Sam would punch him in the face, unless he managed to play his cards right. Actually, she would probably punch him in the face anyway. But it was worth a try.
He crouched down next to her. "Hey, Sam."
She looked over at him, unimpressed. "What."
"Carly was telling me about that movie you two went to see last week," he said, half-smiling. "How the girl got stuck in an elevator with that guy she didn't like. And then stuff happened."
Sam's eyes widened. She looked like an owl. Freddie would have made fun of her, ordinarily, but he didn't entirely feel like getting punched just yet. He just looked back at her, still sort of smiling, still entirely too close.
He could smell her shampoo. It was the same as Carly's, some sort of cherry concoction that smelled really, really good. He was absolutely not looking at her mouth.
"If you're not going to give me back my smoothie, then I guess I can just get it back..." he trailed off (and the dot dot dot was practically audible), and smirked. "Somehow."
He leaned.
Paused.
And then:
"You have mustard on your face, right there," Freddie said, tapping the tip of her nose. For a moment, he was elated, feeling like he'd actually won, for once, until he realized that Sam still hadn't said anything.
Sam looked thunderous. Freddie inched his way back towards the elevator wall.
Sam got up and kicked the doors. When nothing happened, she screamed in fury, and kicked them again.
They opened. Freddie was pretty sure his life was about to be over.
"You can have your stupid smoothie," she said, determinedly not looking at him. "I'm gonna go find that guy and beat him up."
She stalked out, and stomped upstairs.
Freddie turned the straw upside down and drank from the other side. He grimaced. The smoothie tasted horrible, it didn't taste like mangos or kiwis. It wasn't worth it at all.
"You gonna watch, Benson?" Sam's voice demanded.
"Yeah, sure," he called back, and went upstairs.
-
The aftermath:
Freddie revived Spencer after he was throttled and nearly killed by Chuck thanks to his CPR skills, well-honed after years of Mother-Son Health classes.
Sam beat up the elevator repair man. Well, her doppelganger did, anyway. She changed her plans and went after Chuck (she won.)
Carly made the executive decision that the next Three Way Random Debate should feature absolutely no guest stars at all.